Cheech and Chong light up the big screen once more

The irony tickles Cheech and Chong: The Palisades fire smoked them out of their homes. “I had to de-smoke my house,” Tommy Chong says, giggling. “Can you imagine that?” Chong and Cheech Marin ‘s houses, both in the Pacific Palisades, didn’t burn down. But as two of the few homes left standing (“We’re under suspicion,” jokes Chong), they’ve been uprooted. But being on the road has always been a more natural state for Marin and Chong.

No comic act has ever gotten so much mileage out of driving nowhere in particular. In their new movie, “Cheech & Chong’s Last Movie” (in theatres Friday), they reflect on their odd journey while cruising through the desert, looking for a place called The Joint.

Marin, who grew up in Watts the son of an LAPD police officer, met Chong, whose father was Chinese and whose mother was Scotch Irish, after fleeing to Canada to avoid the Vietnam War draft. They met through an improv troupe and immediately felt a rare kinship.

“He’s the egg roll, I’m the taquito,” laughs Marin. Their stand-up tours made them counterculture icons. They opened for the Rolling Stones. Bruce Springsteen opened for them. Their comedy albums made them rock stars, and their films — including 1978’s “Up in Smoke” — made them ubiquitous stoner archetypes. “Our whole getting together was very auspicious,” Chong says. “It was designed by god for us to be here.”

But despite their buddy-buddy routine, Marin and Chong weren’t always the best of friends. After squabbles over credit, they split in the 1980s and saw little of each other for 20 years. In 2003, Chong was incarcerated for nine months for trafficking in illegal drug paraphernalia. He calls his spell in federal prison the best time of his life. Yet Cheech and Chong, a double act to rival Laurel and Hardy, has proven remarkably durable — and profitable.

For a pair of stoners that few would have forecast longevity, they’ve not just made it to old age — Marin is 78, Chong is 86 - they look great. And they laugh just as much as they used to. They’ve maybe even grown wiser, too. As Chong explained over breakfast, they’re reluctant to talk politics. “We’re very deportable,” he said with a grin.

How was it to see your lives laid out in the movie?

CHEECH: I wish they had done even more on our early days because we were trying to figure out who each other were. “What are you? How come you’re named Chong?”

CHONG: The thing is, he was a fugitive. So in order to come into the States, he had to take a chance. He had already sneaked up to Canada. The next thing you know, he meets me and we’re going back to the States!

CHEECH: I was wanted in the US. I came back in the US with a phony ID: my friends’ driver’s licence. It was his picture on it. “OK, that’s me.” “Brown, check. Go ahead.”

CHONG: They weren’t suspecting a Mexican sneaking in from Canada.

Who were some of the people you enjoyed hanging out with back then?

CHEECH: Timothy Leary would come over and stay with me by the beach. He was a great astronomer and knew everything about the constellations.

CHONG: We used to meet on the road sometimes. One time we got in a big discussion. His thing was: We gotta get on a spaceship. This Earth is getting messed up. I said Tim, “We’re on a spaceship. The best spaceship you can imagine!” And you know what he said to me? “Oh, you sound just like John Lennon.”

How has old age changed you?

CHONG: Like anything, you have to age gracefully. That’s what I learned. The older I get, the less I speak because you put your foot in your mouth every time you open it. Me, especially. I say things before I think them.

CHEECH: Really? Really? No!

Associated Press